by Cory Alderfer
It’s a crisp, cold, moonlit evening. Several inches of snow had fallen earlier in the day, but now it’s clear and the temperature is steadily dropping. You’ve cleaned the snow off the walkways and your fingers, cheeks, nose, and toes are numb with cold. You take one last deep breath of the frigid air, planning to head inside, when suddenly you are hit with a snow ball and the fight is on! This scene could easily take place today or have played out back in 1885.
How much has changed since then? For one thing, electric lights were not introduced into the Souderton borough until 1898, so on this night, if able, Lamplighter Harry Fluck would have made his way along Main St. lighting the half dozen gas lamps. The only other light would have been the pale glow from behind tightly curtained windows and the moonlight shining off the sparkling snow. We probably can’t begin to imagine the number of stars that would have been visible.
Of course, there were no snow blowers or snow ploughs, unless you count the one on the train. There were only good old-fashioned shovels, and if you were lucky, a brood of young sons to help get the job done. You’d hear the scraping of those shovels on the slate, plank, or brick walkways, the mingling of voices, congregated mostly on Main and Front Sts., and the chugging and horn blasting of the last steam train of the night. But there were also horses in the barns stomping and nickering, and their companions, the barking dogs, who, unlike today, did not sleep indoors. Oh, and doesn’t it make you shiver to realize that the slamming of the back door indicated that one bundled up neighbor just braved the cold, waiting no doubt until the very last minute, before scurrying to the outhouse?
Most of us cringe when we step out of work after a major storm and realize that the commute home may be treacherous and long. But in Souderton in 1885 you worked, shopped, worshipped, and lived all within a few short blocks. Sometimes your business was in your house or at the back of your property. And your employees who had moved off the farms lived in your house with you. We often speak about this being a simpler time and a bunch of hired hands sharing the same bed was simply a way of keeping warm in a house without central heat. Bringing hot andirons from the stove along to bed was often needed. Hopefully the train can pass through the deep snow and not strand the passengers in the cut.
But now that the work is done, it’s time to play! Young and old alike delighted in sleigh rides, and sleighing parties were quickly organized, taking long rides to other towns. When the horses didn’t struggle through very deep snow it was thrilling when they could trot very fast – too fast though, and you could overturn and find yourself dumped into a snow bank. The swishing of the sleigh’s runners, the jingling of bells, and the whinnying of the horses all add to the excitement as you snuggle next to your special someone, grateful that the horse knows its way home. After a long evening all you want is to curl up under a mountain of blankets, sleeping and dreaming of the fun you had, but first you still need to attend to the horse and bed him down for the night.
The next morning the snow is just right for sledding down the middle of Main St., the Harleysville-Souderton Turnpike, which is the only road where the dirt is mixed with crushed stone, now blanketed with snow. Imagine yourself racing down into the hollow and then part way up the hill. Whose sled could go the furthest? There were no trolleys yet and no automobiles. There were only the few occasional wagons pulled by horses. Don’t forget to shovel the dung to the side of the road first!
The next time you grab a cup of coffee at the Broad Street Grind, take a look around and picture yourself at Freed’s Hall in 1885 when it was flooded to create an ice skating rink. I’m not really sure how this was accomplished. Perhaps water was pumped up from the creek, and because it only happened that one year, I imagine it was not easy to maintain. What fun they had in the meantime! Freed had a number of skates that you strapped to your shoes, and when Bergey’s stocking factory workers on Green St. found it was too cold to knit, why they just went skating instead!
One of my goals was to make you want to wrap in a blanket, drink something warm, and give thanks for your indoor plumbing and lovely warm home. If that has not happened, I will leave you with one last image. If you were Mennonite or Brethren, in the dead middle of winter you may just have chosen that brisk day to chop the ice off the creek and be baptized in there, of course dunked three times.
The photo is of Emma Kindig’s baptism. She is shown under the water of the Branch Creek. Note the snow along the bank.
